


Inside Our Shelter

by felisblanco



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform, fic 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-16
Updated: 2006-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's thoughts on what they have. In his eyes and other's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside Our Shelter

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [В укрытии](https://archiveofourown.org/works/460186) by [de_maria_na](https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_maria_na/pseuds/de_maria_na)



  
Dean doesn't do reckless. It's too precious, too sacred, this thing they have, to risk other people tainting it with their disapproval. Which is what he knows will happen if They ever found out. So he makes sure to keep everything behind locked doors, in the dark, where there's just him and Sam and whatever happens is nobody's business but their own.

Sam doesn't understand. He thinks it's shame, that Dean's embarrassed to be seen as anything less than hundred percent man.

"No one knows we're brothers. So what if they think we're gay? Who cares?" Sam argues and tries to sneak a hand onto Dean's thigh under the table. Dean shoots him a glare and moves away. Then flirts extra hard with the waitress despite the hurt in Sam's eyes.

But Sam is wrong, Dean isn't ashamed. He's afraid.

Not of Them, They don't matter. But their words do. He can fight bullies and dodge fists, would without hesitation shoot any bigot that dared to lay a hand on his brother. But he can't fight words. And for all the people they may fool they only need one to figure it out and the words he dreads will come.

You see, words like that have a tendency to stick, to sneak their way into your soul where they fester and grow like cancer. Words like 'sick' and 'wrong' and 'incest' that turn the most important and beautiful thing in Dean's life into something ugly and condemned.

Dean's never much cared for words. He'd rather go with his instincts, to have his actions speak for him.

They hiss, "Sin!" and he tastes kisses from Sammy's sleep-warm lips.

They spit out, "Sick!" and he drapes his weight over Sam's body like a warm blanket of security.

They scream, "Incest!"

He whispers, "Brother," and shivers when Sam moans his name in return.

They say it's wrong but every bone in his body tells him this is right, more right than anything he's ever felt or done in his life.

See, this is what it really is. It's Sammy's sweet scent lingering in his nostrils. It's the taste of Sam's come on his tongue. It's the shape of Sam's fingerprints blossoming on his skin. It's Sammy's eyes smiling, saying what Dean denies him to put into words. It's right and real and true and good. It's being more than brothers, more than anything. It's not being alone but together. A family. A unit.

Dean doesn't believe in words. But he knows Sam does. And once Sam hears them, these words of venom spit in his face, they will stick. And fester. And grow. And, finally, become true.

fin


End file.
